Level of Deceit: Borderline Genius
by M. M. Kaur
Summary: She's borderline alcoholic, falling in love with the one man she shouldn't want.
1. Booze and Blues

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to its respectful owner. **

* * *

"It's not so bad," Jasper murmurs into my ear.

I smirk against his shoulder, letting my eyes dart across the room to all the happy faces. Stick thin models on arms of old CEOs and perfectly made up wives mingling about, their eyes slyly watching our every move. They're looking for a glitch, a wrong step, something to gossip about at their next kitty party. I won't give away anything, although Jasper is clutching me as if I'm going to run away given a little space.

The diamond feels too heavy on my ring finger; the light reflects off of the square cut, and the sheer size of it makes my stomach drop.

My parents' grins are matching the ones on Jasper's parents, and it does bring a small bit of satisfaction, even if their happiness isn't why I'm doing it.

Actually, I'm not sure why I'm doing this.

I'm only twenty six years old, after all; still a little young to worry about being alone. I tried dating, and found out the hard way that when your face is plastered over magazines with your father's annual income, affection is the last thing on the other's mind. In my social circles, marriages aren't dependent on love—they're arranged so the previous and the coming generation will benefit the most on the misery of the generation caught in between.

I grip Jasper's hand tightly, willing him to relax. There's nothing worse than for people to realize that this pending union is forced, especially since the photos have the possibility of appearing on every reputable magazine. It could jeopardize both our careers.

The announcement of our engagement was made a week ago, and it's been a whirl of madness since.

I can feel his shoulder muscles moving underneath my palm—he's easy on the eyes, the curls of his hair falling a little to the side of his forehead and blue eyes so clear that I could drown in them. And he smells like sunny beaches. His form certainly soothes me, and the vision of our married life doesn't look too bad anymore. We've known each other since we were kids; I'm sure we can live peacefully with a good friendship between us.

The fact that I'll be getting Esme as my mother-in-law is an awesome plus; I've always loved her more than Renee. The soft spoken woman never tried to control any aspect of Jasper or Edward's life.

Speaking of the latter, I don't see his unique hair anywhere. That would certainly raise questions—Jasper's own brother not being present for the biggest wedding of the year.

I let my fingers trail up towards his neck, my thumb rubbing circles against the side of it. "Relax a little, would you? I don't bite."

He breathes out roughly, the warm air fanning across my bare shoulder. "I'm trying."

The slow song finishes, and the tension in Jasper's shoulders dissipates. He rolls his shoulders, one hand on the small of my back, leading us back to our table.

I avoid my parents' eyes the entire time, the smile on my face perfectly manipulated. Jasper clutches my right hand, looking every bit like a man in love as people come by to offer congratulations. I don't know most of them; I've only seen them at the social parties that Charlie has dragged me to over the years.

Renee falls into the seat next to me, sagging her weight against my side. "Oh, Bella. I can't tell you how happy I am that you said yes!" I adjust my dress. The photographer at the corner of the room is concentrating just on us.

_You say that like I had a choice._

I smile back tightly, downing a thin flute of champagne.

Renee sobers up immediately. "Stop drinking." She turns to Carlisle, fluttering her eyelashes. "She's just having some wedding jitters. She's going to quit soon, though."

I'm tempted to snort into my second glass, but Jasper asks Renee to dance with him, which she happily goes about.

_I wonder how sore his feet will be by the end of the song._

As much as my mother wants to believe that she belongs to this world, she doesn't. The only reason Charlie even married her was because bride-wealth had been given to my grandparents when he'd married Elizabeth—the ever so obedient daughter, my aunt. She'd been taken by a car accident long before she could give Charlie an heir. Since bribery—_bride-wealth, I mean_—had already been distributed, Renee was tamed and auctioned off.

And then I came along.

A disappointment, until Charlie realized how he could turn it into his favor.

He'd been planning this announcement for years, shaping me into his perfect little daughter that shined on every newspaper. I'd done exactly that, as long as my nights were my own, and they'd left me to my own devices without question.

"Hey," Esme whispers, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pressing her cheek to mine in a kiss. She always makes me feel at ease.

"Hey you."

"How are you holding up?"

I lift up my wine glass. "As soon as I finish this one and am on the next, I'll be good."

She gives me a sympathetic look. "Just smile for a few more hours and then you can relax."

"I have to design the interior of the house to my liking by next week."

Carlisle had gifted Jasper and I a house in Malibu, declaring proudly that he would prefer to have his 'little kids' nearby. Which roughly translates to: I'll be watching over you every day so make sure you behave.

"I won't lie, but I'm excited that you'll be marrying my Jasper. He's been through a rough year—"

"Alice," I interrupt.

She continues on as if I'd never said anything. "—And if there's anyone who can bring him back to his old style, it's you."

I glance pointedly at the bar, grinning wildly.

She rolls her eyes, her hand squeezing my shoulder affectionately. "Without the alcohol."

I pout. "That's no fun."

"You can have plenty of fun without getting wasted."

"With this crowd?"

She glances around. "Okay, maybe a little buzz is okay."

We giggle together as waiters bring the assortment of desserts—with the option of fat free—around to the tables.

"I just wish that the wedding wasn't so soon. I need more than a week to process the fact that I'm getting married!"

Esme pats my hand. "It had to be if we wanted to keep Black's involvement out of the presses."

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat before racing at a high speed. "Black? Jacob Black?"

Her eyes widen. "Charlie…Renee didn't tell you?"

"Esme?"

"I was so sure they would," she whispers to herself. Carlisle clears his throat loudly, raising one eyebrow. She grabs my hand, announcing to our table that we'll be powdering our nose, pulling me towards the elevators.

"They were supposed to tell me what?"

The royal blue 'Hotel de la Amoris' logos adorns every door and every door handle. It's the only hotel that my parents would be seen at, and the only hotel that can proudly boast being ranked the top on the edge of Rodeo Drive. I ignore all the greetings and questions from the hotel staff, blindly following after the flailing woman.

She slides her card through the lock key and pushes me in first. The door slamming shut together breaks me out of my stupor.

I spin to glare at her. "What's going on?"

"Shh!"

She pulls me to the middle of her room, pouring two glasses of Johnnie Walker Blue, nursing one immediately. She hands me the other one.

"Esme, what does Jacob Black have to do anything with this?"

She sighs. "Your father came over to dinner last Monday, and he told Carlisle that Billy Black expressed _interest_ in joining their two companies-and interest is putting it lightly."

My breath catches in my throat. The Swan Corporation is the leading name in all things engineering, and the Black Automotives is a rising name in the car industries. Merging the two together would dispel any power struggle against other companies; there would be no competition.

"With the condition that the union be established through marriage. Carlisle hinted that Jasper is ready for marriage, and . . ."

"And?"

"And offered _indemnity_."

Her eyes are kind, but they can't stop the anger that courses through me. It sounds just like my father to make a deal to profit him. The Cullens own properties of land scattered all over popular vacation spots as well as business areas—Carlisle probably 'gifted' him his favorite vacationing spot in Tahoe to save me from Jacob's clutches. I should've known better than to think he might've arranged this marriage so that I'd be comfortable with a man I'd grown up with.

My phone chirps, alerting me of an email. I fish it out of the inner pocket of my dress, just by my thigh, the vibrations ticklish.

My eyes widen as I read the content. I enlarge the picture and shove it in front of Esme's face, moving silently to pull together the balcony's curtains. Someone had already taken pictures—and taken them completely out of context.

There's a poorly shot photo of Esme tugging me, and my face completely pale despite the makeup with a caption:_ "Family drama looming halfway into the engagement party? We expected this to happen earlier given the hurried affair!"_

Chances are, if our publicist has warned us, he's probably sent the email to Charlie as well. Emmett is every bit adept at handling these types of situations.

"We should go downstairs," Esme suggests.

I finish off the whiskey, the slight buzz in my head making my eyelids droop a bit.

If power is what Charlie wants, he should've asked for it. I send a few picture attachments to Emmett, letting him decide which one he'd like printed out.

.

* * *

.

Jasper coos the shot of tequila away, chuckling. "What happened?"

"Charlie happened."

"I heard."

I groan. "So everyone knew except me? That's just peachy."

"Maybe you just didn't want to believe it. It's not like we expected you to, Bella; he's your father."

"You're killing my buzz, Jay."

"Come dance with me."

"We've danced enough that _I'm_ pretty much convinced right now."

"No, not for these people. Let's just dance for us . . . the way we used to when we were little."

He grasps my hand in his warm one, gulping my shot down. The music is more upbeat now, channeling the younger crowd over. They're looking excited, the girls scouting the most eligible young man to dance with. They're shooting sly looks at Jasper, their cheeks reddening at the gossip. It's not something entirely new.

What is new is that I don't like this attention on me at all. I've noticed envious glances before, but they've never bothered me like this.

My steps falter a few times, but Jasper smoothes them out, his hand spanning across my back.

The hairs on my neck rise, my spine straightening instinctively just as Jasper calls out, "Edward!"

.

* * *

.

"How did my brother convince you to marry him, Bella?" Edward's eyes smother from above the rim of the wine glass. He's sitting across the table, his smirk painted on his lips. The disarray of hair distorts my focus; it's hard to hold a chain of thought when the only thing I want to do is bury my hands in his locks and pull until he's close enough that our breaths mingle.

Until I can feel his muscles under my hands.

Until I can feel his heart pounding in his chest against mine.

Until I can kiss him senseless.

Until I can push him back onto the bed and—

"Convince him? You should've seen the joy on her face when he proposed!" Renee yelps happily, bouncing in her seat. Charlie grabs her wrist lightly and she calms down immediately, settling to admire the elaborate designs on our wine glasses.

I've lost count on how many I've drunk. I'm quite suspicious that Jasper has been slipping me some lemon juice and ordering grape juice instead of red wine. I'm not quite as buzzed as I'd like to be. I'd prefer to be so wasted that I forget how much I want to lick every inch of Edward.

Especially since I'm sitting next to my fiancée—who just happens to be his brother.

I have half a mind to throw caution to the wind and go for a rumble in the sheets, but the semi-alert part of my brain reminds me of the conversation I had earlier with Esme. I can't hurt the family that tried to save my future—and I even feel a stab of guilt as I remember the pictures that I'd sent in to Emmett. I will myself to calm down; I can trust him to lead me right.

Post-dessert conversation is slow, with the way my stomach knots as numerous women talk about the home coming of the wayward son, some paying special attention to lower their dresses before coming to kiss him on the cheek in welcome.

The only good thing that came out of this is that Jasper is more calm, his hands more touchy as his fingers don't leave my skin at all. They trail across the back of my shoulders before delicately wrapping around an arm, moving up and down. The action that had been previously so soothing is doing nothing but making me wonder how it would feel if Edward had been doing that.

I wonder if my skin would've tightened in anticipation of his next move.

I wonder if my skin would be covered in goosebumps.

I wonder if my heart would pound, whether my hands would itch to touch him.

I push back against my seat, standing up.

"I'd like to go rest now. The dancing has made me tired, and I have an early appointment for my wedding gown tomorrow morning."

Cheerful bids of 'goodnight' ring out, and I don't deny Jasper's hand as he leads me out of the hotel's ballroom. It's not until we're outside and breathing in the fresh air that realization comes of how stuffy it had felt in the air-conditioned room.

"Walk with me?" Jasper asks.

I eye him.

"I know you're not really tired. You just needed to get out of there."

We walk through the back exit, one that is leading towards the clear, man-made lake at the back of the hotel. It looks like a resort with little cabins lining along the water edges for the honeymooners, two-inch boats with lighting wrapped around the metal sitting in the middle.

It's the most romantic thing, yet I'm feeling nothing more than platonic love.

"Did you want to be married by twenty six?"

I shake my head. "I wanted to be settled down by thirty, but I always thought it would be for love."

"Me too."

"I never thought Charlie would sell me out like that."

"Bride-wealth has been a common occurrence in our traditions."

"We're in the twenty-first century, Jay. The only reason this dowry ritual is still carried out is to be different from the rest of the Los Angeles. It's to give the status of elite, of wealth, in a way that shouldn't be warranted."

"And has a lot to do with our family backgrounds," he carries on. "Do you regret saying yes?"

I shake my head in negative again. "I don't, but I wish it hadn't come down to this. Did you want to go through an arrange marriage?"

"Mom told me that love in a relationship makes life worth living. That's why she's never restricted us from anything. That doesn't always work out either."

"What happened between you and Alice?"

The last time I'd seen him was four years ago, before I left for to study for my doctorate's degree, and I'd never seen a happier couple. Alice and I hadn't been particularly close; I'd only known that her father manufactured top brand name accessories. By day, Jasper and Alice hung out with the same crowd as I did at school, too lost in their own little world to notice much else, but by night time, I'd been miles away from them, from this life.

My skin crawls as I think about all those nights at the abandoned underground warehouse, and I want with everything in me to visit them again—the only place that didn't judge me by my name.

It crawls the same way as I think about Edward, but that only serves to make my nerves tangle again.

"She said that she wasted her years on me, that I never appreciated her."

"And did you take her for granted?" I cock up one eyebrow.

"Of course not—well, maybe a little. I got very busy shadowing Dad that I didn't realize I hadn't been giving her enough time."

"Did you explain that to her?"

"She didn't want to listen."

I pat his arm softly, wondering whether Jasper would realize that he'd be pining after Alice for a very long time. I can see it in his expression right now; his eyes did this weird, kicked-puppy-look when he thought about her.

"We should go inside," he suggests.

"You go on." I slip my black heels off, grabbing the ankle straps. "I'll be here for a few more minutes."

He pecks me lightly, hugging me longer than necessary to prove to any lurkers or any photographers of our completely real relationship.

I sit down against the side of the lake, the water so clear that I can see the lights installed at the very bottom. I dangle my feet into it, the chill soothing against the humid, summer air.

"I knew it was all a pretense."

I will myself to remain nonchalant; to not show Edward and he startled me. I should've known better.

"What was?"

"Your good girl act."

I whip my head around to glare at him. He dips to sit beside me, letting his elbows rest on his bent knees. "Excuse me?"

"Please, Bella. Give me a little more credit; you're really marrying my brother?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you don't love him."

I know better than to answer him. His eyes are looking at me like he knows my deepest secrets, like he _wants_ to know my secrets. The water and the light are reflecting in them and he looks like he's from a different world than our own.

Maybe because he is.

He's the wayward son, the one who threw away a century of luxuries and multi-billion dollar company to find happiness amidst the struggles of life. He's lived more in the last ten years he's been gone than the seventy and eighty year olds back in the ballroom.

"Why should I let that dictate who I marry?"

He grins, his teeth shining white against his slightly tanned skin. He looks much more _man_ than he did when I last saw him; and he smells delicious—pure male, with a hint of aftershave and spearmint.

"I remember you wanting to have the Romeo-Juliet kind of love."

"I'm pretty sure I never wanted a relationship that would lead to bloodshed."

He rolls his pretty green eyes. It's astonishing how similar Jasper and him can be, yet they're poles apart, both personality and looks wise. Jasper takes after Carlisle with the blonde hair and blue eyes, but Edward…he's just like Esme, with his unique copper hair and green eyes that could make sparkling emerald gem look flawed.

I'd thought him good looking before, but the word doesn't do him justice. The slight indent between his eyebrows, the tell tale sign of frowning, deepens his intense look. His sun-kissed skin glows against the soft hues of the boat lighting, and I find myself leaning towards him unconsciously.

When he speaks, it's in a soft murmur, almost a purr with his tongue wrapping around each word seductively. It doesn't break me out of his spell as I wonder what other type of things he could do with that organ. "I'm talking about the passionate love, the one you spoke so ardently of. You always claimed to me that you would never marry for convenience." His eyes focus on my lips, and I unconsciously wet my bottom one.

The white shirt underneath his black blazer has two of the top buttons undone. His hand lays just an inch away from mine; I can almost feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

"And yet here you are, doing just what you were so stubbornly against. What changed in the years I left, Isabella?" I snap out of my lust-induced trance. He can be the most charismatic person one second and a complete ass the next. I should've expected this from him. Even as kids, he'd been the rebellious type.

_So are you._

I scowl to myself.

"That was when I was sixteen. You don't know anything."

"You mean about Black?" My breath hitches; his grin of triumph makes my flesh sizzle. "I know more than you think."

"Why are you back, Edward?"

He shrugs, looking away. "I'm back for my brother's wedding, of course."

"We both know that's not the reason."

"How so?"

"If you cared about this wedding, you would've been here the day the announcement was made."

"What if I tell you I'm here to stop these stupid nuptials?"

"You still would've been here right after the announcement."

"Perhaps I mean to lead Jasper astray during the Bachelor party."

"And have that end up the talk of the month? You would never jeopardize his future like that, especially after all his hard work to attain his double MBA."

A scowl irks up at the side of his lips. "You act like you know him better than I do. I am his brother, after all."

"I've been here longer than you have." It's a buff, but I pray with all that's in me that he can't tell. There's something about him that brings out a different attitude in me. I can't fathom why or how I could possibly want to strangle him one minute and then jump him the next.

I pull my feet out of the water, grabbing my heels as I gain my balance. At this angle, he can probably see the lacy edges of my boy shorts. I make no show of pulling down my already-too-short dress. "Nice to see you again, Edward; have a good night." I don't wait for a response, but I can't find an excuse as to why I put an extra swing in my hips as I walk away.

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**One-shot that was donated to the Fandom for Oklahoma. It'll be around three chapters long. FemmeCullen made the banner and DayDreamDreamer beta'd. **

**Thanks for reading. Leave me a review! **


	2. Serial Killers and Midgets

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to its respective owner. **

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There are seven lights on the ceiling in my bedroom, with three softer ones. The balcony is closed, but the curtains are pulled apart. The bed is too soft, or not soft enough; the pillows are too hard.

The colorful lights that are reflecting off of the glass door remind me of Edward. He's the reason I can't sleep.

I can still smell the spearmint on his breath, the calming scent of his aftershave...

I peel away the sheet cover off of me, running a hand through my hair.

The knock on the door startles me. If Renee or Charlie needed me, they would've used our connecting door; who else could be knocking at midnight?

"Edward?"

He's holding his blazer by the crook of his finger over his shoulder, the tie that wasn't there before loosened. His hair is in more of a mess than I'd ever seen.

"I couldn't sleep," he offers.

I cross my arms over my chest, the silk gown light in shade doing little to cover up my hardening nipples.

"And I wanted to apologize."

I cock up an eyebrow. "For?"

"For assuming things, and being a presumptuous ass. I hope I didn't wake you up."

"No . . . I couldn't sleep either."

He leans against the door panel, his face much closer to mine now. I detect a hint of whiskey.

"Wedding jitters?"

"Something like that."

He stays silent for mere moments, his eyes holding mine captive. My breathing speeds up as I realize he's so close to me that I can grab his shirt and pull him to me and he wouldn't even know it until our lips have collided together. I can easily imagine how good his hands would feel on my recently neglected skin-especially that crooked finger moving in that same motion between my le-

"Come on a ride with me."

"What?" I ask stupidly.

"You're not sleepy, so come on." He grabs my hand, pulling me out of the room.

"Wait, wait! I have to change first."

"You don't have to; _I_ like that." I don't have to see his face to know he's wearing a cocky grin. He lets go of my hand regardless, and I make a point to close the door before hurrying to change into some leggings and a comfortable sundress.

He grabs my hand again as soon as I'm out the room. Everything is dead silent, and we try to walk on the tips of our toes stealthily. A giggle erupts from my mouth at the thought of even doing something like this; I've snuck out during nights before, but never with someone else.

We freeze as the elevator dings to a stop just before us, and Edward tugs on my hand to the door marked 'Employee Only.'

"We're so in trouble," I hiss out to him, looking behind me to make sure no one sees us.

"There aren't many people here at night."

"How would you know that?"

He shrugs. "It's a guess."

"Do you do this often?"

"Do what?"

"Sneak women out of their rooms and take them through the nearly abandoned elevators?"

We move past some carts and dinnerware, and true to his word, there isn't a soul working right now. He pulls me down towards the stairs, ignoring the empty elevator completely.

"Just pretty ones."

The compliment is lost on me as we run down over fifteen flights of stairs. By the time we're on the ground floor, I'm pulling at my leggings to peel them away from my sticky skin.

Edward hands me a bottle of water, pointing to the fridge when I eye him warily.

"I'm close to changing my mind on this whole operation," I pant out.

He grins sheepishly, his teeth gleaming in the low lights. There's movement sounding from behind the tall carts of dinnerware, and we hurry out the employee exit as I clutch the chilled water bottle to my overheated skin.

He leans back against the brick wall as soon as the door shuts close behind us, laughing with his head thrown back. "I didn't think you'd come with me."

I glare at him. "If I'd known this was your safe way out, I wouldn't have."

"Aren't you afraid your parents will see you gone?"

"You make it sound like it's the first time I've never snuck out." I tilt my head up to look taller, sophisticated against his claim.

He looks surprised. It's kind of insulting. "Show me where you went."

"What if it was to a boyfriend's house?"

"I don't believe that for one bit, Isabella."

I bite down on my bottom lip, tugging on the hem of the short sundress. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

He raises up one eyebrow. "Here?"

I roll my eyes. "Show me your sanctuary, and I'll show you where I used to go every night."

He walks towards me like a predator, not stopping until he's just a breath away from me. "Is that a promise? Because I'll hold you to that."

I hum in agreement, my mouth refusing to cooperate.

His arm wraps around my waist, and he hauls me over the back of a motorcycle. My fingers clutch the seat nervously.

He swings his leg over the front seat, starting up the machine.

I jab a finger into his shoulder blade. "You planned this!"

"No, I'm really a psychic."

I slap his arm.

"Hold on tight."

The first push off is a little nerve wrecking. The way the motorcycle jolts forward and pulls to a stop causes my heart to beat faster. There are scarce lights around, barely enough to see the turns on the road. I'm pretty convinced that Edward's just trying to give me mini-heart attacks in hopes that I'll die before the wedding.

But when we stop at a traffic light on Griffith Park road, he pulls so that my arms are wrapped tightly against the hard of his abs and my chest is flush against his back, and I can concentrate only on what I feel. The purring of the engine under me sends heat through my stomach, and I clench my legs tightly around Edward's hips, the feel of his muscles moving so prominent against me. The wind makes my hair fly behind me, the edges of my dress rippling.

I shut my eyes close when I see the uphill road; it's all curves and turns with the mountain on my left side and no protection on the right. The vision of the machine skidding and us falling down from the top of the hill causes me to grip Edward's shirt more tightly.

"We should've worn helmets."

"I don't have one."

I scowl at the back of his head. He pulls to a stop just outside of the gates to the Griffith Observatory. I can't get away fast enough. He kicks the stand, putting his hands on his hips. "We're not there yet."

My face falls. He looks pointedly towards the hiking trails, the night making it look terrifyingly eerie.

"Oh no."

"Come on," Edward coaxes. "Don't be scared; I'll protect you."

"Hell no."

I start taking steps backwards, but he's faster, and he starts dragging me towards the Mountain Lee Drive trail by my hands. I try to dig my feet into the ground to make him stop.

"I bet it's a view you've never seen before."

"I've done modeling by draping myself over a Hollywood sign. I've seen it all."

"Not _the_ Hollywood sign, though," he counters.

"Na uh. There could be a serial killer hiding up there or tiny little people who'll hibernate us and eat us during the winter!"

"Isabella," he starts, turning to stare at me. He narrows his eyes a little bit, his lips parting, and I'm pretty sure I'll do anything he asks of me at that moment. "It's a beautiful place. I've been here a hundred times, and there haven't been any serial killers or any midgets."

"But-"

"I'll protect you."

"But-"

"Isabella," he sighs heavily. "I'm trying to share a private place with you. Shouldn't that be enough?"

I shut up, pursing my lips. "Fine. Lead the way."

I try not to jump every time we step on a twig, or flinch every time the wind rustles the leaves. It's a clear path, with solar lights on the ground to lead the way and a few lights scattered over the trail. A thin bead of sweat builds up on my upper lip and on my forehead, all the while Edward looks completely at ease.

The hike is silent, except for the times that Edward takes a jab at me and I insult him back to protect my delicate ego.

"Just a little more," he announces, his legs moving faster in excitement. I lag behind, the burning in my calves intensifying.

"I can't."

"You hiked up all this way to give up?"

"Don't you dare start a motivational speech."

"I'll leave you here."

"I left a note in my room that I'm with you. If something happens to me . . ."

He turns back, a shadow on his face; he doesn't look amused at all. "Did you really?"

"No, I didn't," I admit.

He stares at me for a few minutes before moving towards me and bending down. "Hop on."

My mouth drops open. "Are you serious?"

"Hop on before I change my mind."

I look around nervously even though I know we're alone. And then I look at the messy mop of hair and it'll be an excuse to run my fingers through those strands . . .

Decision made.

He hooks his arms around the back of my knees, and jolts me so that my chest is once again pressing to his back. I try not to blush at the thought that he could probably feel my tightened nipples.

_Play it cool . . . play it cool . . ._

_Think of Jasper, the man you're going to marry in a few days._

I lean my forehead against his shoulder as he starts moving, the muscles under his thin shirt shifting with each step. His skin is covered in goose bumps, and I briefly entertain the thought that this strange physical reaction might not be one-sided after all. It's not exactly wrong to be attracted to someone; it's not something you can control.

_That doesn't make it right._

I sigh as the internal war continues in my head.

"We're here," Edward announces softly, bending at the knees to let me down.

"Is the view worth the hike?" he asks, a nervous twitch in his hand. I'd so easily asked him to share his spot with me earlier in the night, but I hadn't realized what a big thing it had been until now. He's sharing his private sanctuary with me, a place that was his get away from our exhausting world.

I gasp silently as I turn to take in the view. We're standing behind the Hollywood sign, the closest trail to the iconic letters, watching the rest of Los Angeles bathed in the light of the moon. The sky is endless, a navy blue that stretches until it's swallowed behind some of the larger buildings and houses. Most of the areas are covered in darkness, but the street lights are on and the Interstate 5 Freeway is still surprisingly busy, lending a magnificent sight.

"It's gorgeous," I whisper.

He sits down at the hard edge of the mountain, letting his feet dangle the same way that I'd let mine into the man-made lake back at the hotel.

"It's peaceful, away from everything."

"How long have you been coming here for?"

"For ages."

"I wish I'd known about it back then."

"We didn't really talk, and the general hike turns a different route quarter mile back."

"Why didn't we talk?"

He glances at me from the corner of his eye, one side of his lips tilting up. "It wasn't because of me. I tried to hang out with you."

"I thought you were just waiting for me to embarrass myself."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, you are two years older than me, and you made fun me of all the time!"

He sighs, letting out a chuckle through his nose. "I didn't know how else to talk to you. I didn't exactly fit into your social life."

"Our social lives were the same, or did you forget the countless balls and parties that our parents pushed us together for?"

"I've never fitted in. I think that's why I left."

"Where did you go?"

"New York, Chicago, Vancouver, and a few places around Europe."

"You could've traveled with your family."

"Then it wouldn't have been about me. Every time I talked to someone, they told me how many expectations they had of me, to take over the family business. I just wanted to do something that made me happy, you know? I didn't want to wonder if Stanford accepted me because of my own merit or because of my father's name."

I look down at my hands. I'd wondered that as well; I'd constantly wondered through my Doctorate program if I'd gotten into one of the top private Universities in America because of my own intelligence and merit or because I am the heir to Swan Corporation. I know how he had felt all too well, except I had an outlet for it all.

I get to my feet, holding out my hand to him. "Come on."

He looks confused. "Where?"

"You showed me yours . . . I'm going to show you mine."

* * *

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	3. Compacts and Contracts

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to its respective owner. **

* * *

The music is loud enough to vibrate through the floor but not enough to be heard. The adrenaline pumps through me as the place of my solace comes near.

The entire warehouse has been abandoned for years, the property rotting away on the outside without a care from its owner. It's not a tall building, but a large one surrounded by brick walls.

I grab onto a metal bar and haul myself onto the top of one wall, turning to urge Edward to do the same. He follows, albeit warily.

The inside of the building is the exact opposite. It's been kept moderately clean as far as I can tell in this darkness, and the sharp beats of the music can be heard now. Edward has a curious look on his face.

I grab his hand so that we don't get lost as we descend the stairs into the basement level, the lights dimming into vibrant rainbow colors. It's completely packed tonight, bodies bumping into each other, and the atmosphere is causing my blood to pump faster.

Edward presses against my back, his lips touching the shell of my ear.

And I soar higher.

"What are we supposed to do?"

"You dance. Anyone does; they have different songs, tempos, and beats going on, and anyone can jump in," I yell to him.

The middle, wide rectangle is like an ice rink, with people standing on the borders of it. There are portable ACs plugged into the generator, and two tables stacked upside down for a make-shift bar.

Some of the people that I walk past smile and greet me hurriedly. It's the place I feel most comfortable at; they know _me_. They don't care what my last name is, or how much money I have in my bank account; they only care about what I present on the dance floor.

Thudding beats cross through the speakers, and a loud cheer goes through the crowd. A group jump into the middle to dance, followed by individual members who do their best to improvise closest they could to being the same. Thunderous cheers roar in our ears.

Several other beats play and people jump in and out of the rink rectangle and Edward doesn't step even an inch away from me.

A softer tempo plays, and couples start dancing this time. There's a mix of swing dancing and tango with hip hop, and then Edward is pushing me to it. It's the same feeling as always; nervousness yet the excitement to show what I know.

He grabs me around the waist, putting pressure so that I spin away from him but he catches me to stop my momentum, pulling me back to him.

These are familiar dance steps; basics of tango, yet I know he's just testing me.

With a strong and steady grip, I fall into step with him, moving my hips in motion to the fast beats. He tilts me to reach behind my knees, tossing me over his back with one arm only to catch me with the other. I crook one knee onto his waist, our lips a hair width apart. We breath each other in for mere seconds before he twirls me over his back, catching my hands from between his legs to pull me under them to his front again.

It's not until we've stopped and the applause rings out that I notice we're the only two left dancing. I've never felt so exhilarated during any of these night visits, and certainly never this confused.

.

.

Two days pass in a whirl of preparations, from the cake tasting to the wedding gown fitting. Esme has one of her favorite, new and hot designer working on the alterations and to add a little bit of lace to show skin at the hip of my right stomach.

I barely get to see Jasper-he's busy in his work, but I'm used to it. Even when we'd gone to the same academy, we'd had different priorities. He'd always been busy with his studies and Alice, and I'd just been quiet.

What surprises me is how much I looked forward to the little chances that I got to see Edward. He'd wink or smirk at me, or even pass by me with a little touch to my arm that would send my mind racing to the night when he'd danced with me. I throw myself into every little detail, desperate for a distraction.

Today's different; I know because I wake up to Esme sitting on one of the living room chairs sipping tea, her other hand occupied by a rolled magazine.

"Bella," she greets warmly.

The sight of the paper brings dread to my stomach; I'd been so absorbed that night that I'd never thought someone could've followed Edward and me to our late night adventures.

"Esme . . ."

"Come have tea with me."

I excuse myself for a moment to brush my teeth and pull a robe around me.

"I found an interesting photo this morning on the front cover."

I feel nauseous.

She puts it down in front of me, and I breathe a sigh of relief. It's one of Jasper and me-out by the lake. He's looking down at me in admiration, whereas I'm distracted by the water. It's a nice shot, I admit, as it was taken without flash. The way the lights reflect off of Jasper's features make it seem like he's a man head over heels in love.

There's a knock on the door, and Edward steps in soon after. He's freshly showered, with water droplets clinging to his hair and dropping down to leave a trace on his shirt. There's stubble growing on his jaw line, and I'm tempted to caress it to see if it'll tickle.

Esme clears her throat, and he sits down beside me.

"Isn't this picture pretty?" she asks.

He glances down, and I pay close attention to his reaction. His nostrils flare slightly, pink touching the tips of his ears.

Then he shrugs, his expression void of emotions. "It's good publicity."

"Edward Anthony Cullen." Esme scowls.

"Sorry, Ma, but isn't that what this is? It's not really a marriage-just a pretense of one."

My mouth drops open. I'd almost forgotten how blunt he is, and at the moment, he's coming off as an ass even if he's a little bit right.

Esme glares at him. "Here's another picture from the same night." She lays this one down; it's a regular photograph. It's one of Edward and me, him carrying me on his back. Except my face isn't really shown-it's buried in his shoulder.

My cheeks burn.

"And this one." We're on top of Mount Lee. His hand is so close to mine, his pinky finger touching mine as if in an intimate caress, and his face is leaning towards mine, his eyes concentrated on my lips. While he doesn't look in love, this more comes off as much more private than the one of Jasper and me.

"Explain," she orders.

"I couldn't sleep, so Edward offered to take me sightseeing."

Esme looks amused. "You've grown up here, Bella. He's the one returning home."

"Yeah . . . I meant that. I was showing him around."

Edward scoffs besides me, and I jab him in the side with my elbow.

She leans forward to put her weight on her elbows on the table. "Believe it or not, I'm old." My brows furrow. "And I can tell when there's passion between two people, and sorry Bella, but I don't think you and Jasper will last."

I grasp at the straws. "But you said that I could help bring him out of his shell again."

"You can, but I meant that in the sense that you two are better friends than life partners. Compromise can only get you so far."

"You're the one who-"

"That was before I saw you and Edward together. You're lucky the photographer made a deal with me rather than going to the magazines."

Edward had been listening silently at this point. I turn to him, wide eyed, but he's staring at Esme in an unfathomable expression.

"What are you saying, Ma?"

She gets up, fixing her waist length skirt. "I'm saying that the wedding is in four days. You have until tonight to let me know how you want to proceed; otherwise, four people will be left very unhappy." She leaves the room without another word to us.

"So that was interesting," he starts.

"He finally finds his voice!"

He rolls his eyes. "What are we going to do?"

"What do you mean? We're going to chalk this morning talk up to nothing, that's it."

His eyes flash. His hand snaps out to grab a hold of my chair's arm, pulling me so that my legs are locked between his and he's as close as he can get to me without actually kissing me. His eyes look impossibly bright, looking at me as if he's memorizing every single detail on my skin. His lips part and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip. It touches mine slightly, and I let out a sound from my throat involuntarily.

"Nothing, huh?"

"We can't do this."

"We're not doing anything." His lips near yet they still don't touch mine. My hands itch to grab him closer, though I refrain. I can't. I can't do this to Jasper, but I can't pull away. It's as if he's got me hooked and locked to him, even though our legs are the only parts that are touching.

"You are."

"We're just talking."

"Uh huh . . ."

Heat coils at my stomach when the tip of his tongue brushes against mine as he wets his lips again. And just as I'm about to jump at him, he pushes his chair back, leaving the room without a backwards glance.

My heart pounds an unsteady rhythm.

.

.

I pace in front of Esme's door, anxiety licking at my flesh. I'd taken Jasper to my dancing scene, but he'd found something wrong with it, whether it was the crowed place, or the sweaty people bumping into him, or the dirty underground room. I would've excused that had it been earlier-hell, I wouldn't have taken him there in the first place.

Except now that Edward had appreciated the warehouse and its meaning, and Jasper didn't, I can't overlook that. I didn't even wait to wonder if it's too late to be disturbing Esme.

At least that's what I tell myself.

What other possible reason could there be?

I knock on Esme's door, praying that Carlisle is out; not only because it would be embarrassing with him in the room, but I'd never be able to go through with it.

She greets me, pulling me into the room. "Carlisle is out having a late night drink with your father; I don't expect him to be back soon."

Another woman is sitting on the round table, her head bowed. I try to deduce who she is, but I can't remember any guest with black, pixie hair cut. Edward is sitting opposite of her, his eyes a bit widened in alarm.

"Alice," Esme coos. The woman turns around, her eyes brimming with tears and red.

"Oh Bella," she sobs, running to me and collapsing into my arms.

I look to Edward for help, but he shrugs helplessly, looking pointedly at the wet, black stains on his button down shirt. Poor thing got attacked first; I can't hide the mirth in my smile.

I pat Alice awkwardly on the back. I've never been good with crying people; I'd always thought tears were useless. Man up or get out; it's what Charlie's always said.

"Now, now . . ." I plead with Esme with my eyes to help me, and she takes pity as she grabs Alice's shoulders to peel her away.

"Bella's agreed to help you," she coos.

Alice's expression changes immediately, almost giving me a whiplash. Her wide, doe like eyes are so hopeful as she looks to me for affirmation.

"What did I agree to?"

Esme answers nonchalantly, "That you're head over heels with Edward and you won't be marrying Jasper."

I sputter. "What? No!"

Alice lets out another loud sob, grabbing a bunch of tissues to hide her face in them.

"I mean, yeah, what she said!"

"You're in love with me?" Edward asks, smirking.

"I hate you," I hiss to him.

"Come on, baby. You just admitted to it!"

I narrow my eyes at Esme, choosing to ignore her eldest son. "I thought you didn't like her."

"She broke my baby boy's heart; she's going to mend it now." I glance at Alice, and she's whipped out a little mirror to clean under her eyes.

"This is why you called me here?"

"I didn't do anything. You came on your own merit, and I've gotten my answer."

"Which would be?"

"That you and Jasper don't belong together."

"So we're going to get Jasper married to Alice?"

Esme gets a strange gleam in her eyes. "Yes, we are."

"Except that he won't answer my calls," Alice wails, barely looking up at us from behind her compact.

"You should know him by now, Alice. He'll do whatever he thinks is right, and in this case, it's marrying Bella."

"So we just call off the wedding?" I question.

Edward shakes his head. "He needs to come to the conclusion on his own."

"How?"

Esme takes a seat, a wicked smile lighting up her face.

"I need shots of whiskey," I mutter out.

* * *

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	4. Guilty Smiles and Womanly Wiles

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to its respective owner. **

* * *

Phase 1 is in motion. And working, as I look through the binoculars to the pool. Alice is in a tiny, black monokini, bare back, and Jasper is trying not to look at her and failing. Edward is sitting close by him, gesturing animatedly. He's in swimming trunks, and I linger a little too long on the hard muscles of his abdomen. I'm sure Esme suspects it, but she leaves the teasing be for the moment.

Maybe because she notices how on edge I am.

"How were you so confident that this would work?"

"When did you know you and Jasper wouldn't last?"

"When you hinted at it."

"It was when you compared someone you could see yourself in a physical relationship with."

"Esme!"

"I was young once," she defends. "And you two are compatible both mentally, of course."

I go back to concentrating on Edward's body, my happy place.

He's moving now, towards Alice, and while I know what's coming next, it doesn't stop my stomach from twisting.

"What are you two doing?"

We jump at Carlisle's voice, our guilty looks matching.

"Actually, I don't want to know." He holds up his hands, backtracking his steps.

I snort, looking at Jasper as his face falls. He gathers up his towel, twisting it in his hands, and stalks away as Edward continues talking to Alice.

And I know exactly how he feels.

.

Phase 2 happens during dinner. Esme, of course, generously invites Alice to dinner in front of Jasper. She seats Edward and Alice on one side, and me and Jasper on the other. The two opposite of us are deep in private conversation, ignoring not only their dinners but us as well. My hands cling to the wine glass and Esme keeps pouring.

Jasper makes sure that I'm okay with Alice being there, and I lie.

I move the food around on my plate, feeling the buzz of the alcohol in my head much faster than usual due to the empty stomach. The slightly tipsy part of me realizes that Jasper had only looked so in love in the picture because we had been talking about Alice at that time.

The sober part of me wants that kind of love.

Edward notices, and when Alice excuses herself to the bathroom, he walks to my side, purposely leaning down to whisper in my ear for Jasper to see. "You need to eat."

"No," I respond stubbornly.

"If you be a good girl and eat, I'll take you out to San Francisco to show you my favorite place there."

The food on my plate starts disappearing soon after his words; his attention to Alice doesn't even bother me anymore. He's shared his solitude place with _me_, and he'll be sharing another one soon; not with her, but _me_.

.

.

Phase 3 is the last one. Edward and Alice had spent the last three days trying to make Jasper so jealous so that he admits his feelings, and Esme has sped the process by hinting at him that perhaps Edward might tie the knot soon after Jasper. The bachelor and bachelorette parties were merged together and Alice danced her little heart out in bendy moves that had Jasper shifting in his seat. I had been able to see that he was trying to ignore it, paying bits of attention to me, but Alice is the kind of force that demands full focus.

I could literally see the sweat building on his forehead, the skin underneath his eyes dark from the lack of proper sleep. I feel bad for what we're doing to him, but I console myself that it'll be for the good. He and Alice are meant to be together, even if I can't see it. Esme knows the two better than I do, and if she says so, I have no reason to doubt her.

And Edward seems to be all for it.

The wedding rehearsal is giving me the jitters, not because of the excitement for tomorrow, but for the dread that I'll be walking down the aisle towards Jasper when all I want is for Edward to be there.

I could've easily seen myself walking towards one of my childhood friends a week ago, but Edward's arrival disrupted everything. He came into my life like a storm and took me to heights with simple actions and words like no one had done before. He'd made me feel completely at ease in my own skin. As bad as I felt for deceiving Jasper like this, I couldn't marry him.

And I definitely wouldn't hurt him. His spark is coming back a little, even if it is in the form of anger and jealousy. He's always been a passionate person, feeling somebody's emotion and tuning into them. It's a surprise he hasn't felt anything between Edward and I, but I chalk it up to the fact that he's busy dealing with his own feelings to notice anybody else.

I walk towards him, a poor excuse of a bouquet held in my hand as my real one doesn't arrive until early in the morning. Edward's standing right next to him, and I can't will my eyes away from his green ones. The small amount of relatives that wanted to be here without a valid reason disappear from the corner of my eyes.

We listen to the sermon and the brief bit of advice, and as we move towards the vows, Jasper starts fidgeting.

"Do you, Jasper-"

Jasper grabs my hand, pulling me back down the aisle as our parents freeze. No one follows behind us as he drags me towards the lake behind the hotel.

"Jay?"

He grips his hair, pulling at the curly strands in agitation.

I put a soothing hand on his arm to will it down. "Jay," I coo softly. "What's wrong?"

"Everything. Alice is here; oh God, Alice is here. And Edward's interested in her."

"Oh . . ."

"I tried so hard to ignore this feeling, but I can't anymore. It's like she's everywhere I look, and now Mom is hinting that Alice and Edward might get married?"

I sit down at the bench, twisting my ankles together. "So what do we do?"

"You look so calm. _How_ can you be so calm?"

"I think you and Alice should be the ones getting married."

"Right? My brother and my ex-" He blinks at me, not moving a muscle. "What?"

"You love her, Jay. If we were to get married, we'd both be miserable, and so would Alice. You felt horrible when Edward flirted with her, but you were fine when he flirted with me. You belong with her; go in there and propose to her right now."

"But our parents . . . The media . . ."

"Would you rather live a miserable life than a few moments of being criticized in magazines?"

"Bella . . ."

"You've always been the good guy, Jay. You've never done anything bad in your life; and you marrying Alice tomorrow won't be wrong at all. You'll just be doing something for yourself for once."

He looks towards the sky, his thumbs twisting. "I don't know."

"You'll know I'm right soon." I shrug, leaving him to his devices, and he watches me curiously as I walk back to the wedding venue.

I've never done anything like this before either. I'd always been a good girl for my dad, always kept his name and mine clean as far as the public was concerned. But this . . . this is _my_ moment. Esme's encouraging smile is all I need.

The wedding party looks at me in confusion, wanting an explanation.

I raise my right hand up, waving ridiculously. "Wedding is canceled. Stay the weekend and enjoy LA on us!"

I grip my purple dress, hurrying to my room before anyone could question me. Charlie looks furious, his skin turning a hideous red, and Renee looks shocked, but I pay them no mind.

It feels odd being in my room. I'm expecting Charlie to burst in here and question my sanity, but the soft knock on the door is the opposite of the flare I predicted. Edward's soft voice whispers through the door to let him in.

He sticks his hands into his pockets, rolling from the balls of his feet to the tips and back. "They're all calling you a jittery bride."

"They'll get over it."

"Are you going to stay here?"

I cock up an eyebrow at him. "What else could I possibly do?"

"Well . . ." His steps are deliberate, and every inch that he gets closer to me pulls my stomach into knots, and before I know, his chest is pressing against mine; he's so near that our breaths mingle. "We could play chess." He pushes forth until the back of my knees touch the edge of the bed and doesn't stop until we're both horizontal. "Or we could pack."

His lips touch my jaw, and I moan. His fingers fiddle with the zipper on my back as his teeth nip at my chin. Little kisses trail up to the corner of my lips, and he kisses each side before tugging my bottom one between his teeth, making my stomach coils.

He smells like rain and the ocean and everything starts to disappear around us.

His fingers find the bare skin of my back, and I push my chest to his, tugging at the soft locks of his hair to encourage him to kiss me already.

And he does. It's as if the dam holding the water at bay has been pushed too hard; instead of cracks, it's a full break.

He's everywhere; at sides of my breasts with his hands, the valley of them with his mouth, to my lips and my cheeks. Things become a blur, a buzz at the very back of my mind. I tune out the pounding of feet or fists outside and give into the temptation as my heart hammers dangerously against my chest and Edward's breath flutters across my flesh.

Every minute that passes by feels like seconds; it's not _enough_.

I tug his shirt free of the confines of his pants, my hands squeezing his ass to get him closer to me. I can feel each twitch of his cock, each little thrust against the apex of my legs, and I've nearly gotten his belt undone to reach to touch him as the door flies open, and he collapses on me to keep the top part of me covered.

"Bella? _Edward_?"

"Jay?"

He walks right back out holding Alice's hand, and it's not a second later that I hear the commotion as both our families try to get into the room. We right our clothing the best we can, and I pull Edward through the joining room to my parents and then out the door. We run down through the employees' stairway, laughter bubbling between the both of us. It's impossible for anyone not to deduce what we'd been doing just a minute ago from our disheveled appearance. As much as I want to impale myself on him, the need to get away from everything is slightly more prominent.

Just by one point.

His motorcycle is still parked on this side, but he's got two helmets now.

I grab the hem of my dress up to sit the best I can with a strapless dress.

"Where to?"

"A clothing store first, and then San Francisco."

"San Francisco?"

"You did promise me."

"That I did." He turns back to kiss me before the engine roars to life and our helmets cover our heads.

"Why did you park back here again?"

"It's for the employees."

"You work here?"

"What's wrong with working here?"

"Nothing; I meant that shock as in you worked in LA and no one knew?"

He sighs. "I designed the place." His cheeks tint pink as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. It's the first time I've ever seen him so uncomfortable. "It's kind of, sort of . . . mine."

I sputter, "What . . . how . . .?"

"I saved up money and Carlisle loaned me the rest when I started. I'm paying him back in installments."

"But he's always made it sound like you left and he didn't want anything to do with you."

"That's just how he comes off as."

My respect for Carlisle grows; I wonder how he's coping with us running away.

"Wait! I have to give this engagement ring back to Jasper!"

"Keep it," he murmurs, the sound vibrating through his body. "It's a family heirloom that should be given to the eldest anyway."

My arms tighten against him, and I press a soft kiss to the back of his neck as the tires on his motorcycle squeal as he peels away.

Esme could easily handle everything until we're ready to come back or call. And Jasper has his Alice now, so I'm not worried.

I'd thought wrong earlier. Esme has meddled in Edward and Jasper's lives . . . but they turned out alright. And so did I. Perhaps I'd visit my parents sooner than later. Or maybe after Emmett gets those pictures leaked . . .

* * *

**This is it. I was trying to insert a little smut into it, but things sounded force, so I stuck (mostly) to the original section. :) If I sign up for any other Fandom donations, I'll be writing the San Francisco scene! ;)**

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